Mayhem at the Philharmonic

August 2, 2014 The Fiddler causes mayhem but he cannot be bested by the TITANS! Also, first appearance of Gravity Kid, so, there's that too.

New York Philharmonic

An orchestra auditorium near Central Park



  • The Fiddler

Mood Music:
Something by Ludwig Van. And a little of the ultra violence.




The feathery tones of a dozen different instruments filter from down in the pit and up to the seats as the musicians finish tuning and the final spectators are discovering their seats in the amphitheatre not too far from Central Park. There is that wide open feel where there is indoor cross ventilation; mixing the oxygen and making everyone feel alive.

The star of the show, Isaac Bowin, takes his chair as first violin and finishes his preparations. His long white hair falls about his shoulders, highly eccentric for this sort of enterprise, but all of the critics love how he turns convention on its head. The conductor, Gary Templeton, takes his up on the step stool and taps lightly on the lectern.

The orchestra smashes right into their piece, a pulsing concerto that builds and builds towards its finale of ecstasy. Overcome with the emotion Bowin closes his eyes, really getting into it deeply as the sounds build upon each other with his violin in the lead.

But then, something confusing happens. Up in the stands, one suit wearing man stands and punches an elderly woman, straight away in the face, knocking her clear out of her chair and onto the floor. After spilling her wine over her classy pink dress and as her pears begin to roll all over the floor, she screams a real blood curdler-you know, one of those deep guttural screams that makes everyone look. But the orchestra just keeps playing as more and more of the audience begins to fight. A blind man smashes a small boy right in the face with his cane. Two beautiful women in black slinky dresses tear at each other's eyeballs. A petite woman is choking out a giant of a man by standing on the back of her seat.



The new radio given to the Titans on behalf of the SRD begins to squelch madly. The Flash stands over it and tilts his head, "Is this thing broken?" he asks.

A moment later the signal comes through as it does to other heroes. There's some sort of situation at the Philharmonic! People are going crazy, tearing each other. There is a mob of perhaps 400 people with a blood thirsty lust for terror!

If you're going to call one team, Call the Avengers.

If the Avengers are busy, call the Titans.

Raven has always appreciated the beauty of the orchestra. The pulsing of the music as each cresendo builds and builds then hits with the pounding pressure of dozens of talented musicians all in syncronous harmony. It's the feeling she cannot express, the soul deep reverence for the form of musical expertise that washes over her like a wave of notes. Dressed in a black dress with her hair loosely pulled back into a bun on her skull, Raven is in the cheapest of all the seats possible, and had to scrape together money for these…

She watches with her eyes closed so the music washes over her, letting the soul forged sounds of dozens of talented musicians wash over her. It's not cheating, she doesn't even have to tap into their emotional state to feel it, they're simply sharing it with her like some gift that she doesn't fully understand and could never repay.

Then something touches her that she hadn't expected: The sudden rush of… violence way above her. Then more and more. It knocks the very fragile house of cards upon which she's built this moment over as effectively as a storms turbulent winds. Her dark eyes snap open in irritation and then upwards, "Really? Now?"

Shadowy purple soul stuff whips around her like a vortex and leaves her standing her costume, floating up above the crowd with her hands spread out around her, forcing smaller groups of combatants to seperate with the flick of her wrists. She does not yet have a Titan communicator, so it's a good thing she was already here, yeah?

"Ugh…" This is how people are suppose to feel, right? She assumes she is expressing her 'frustration' appropriately, while talking more like a robot. "I am so mad." Is she? Is she really?

Amara has been restless. Caught between being a child and an adult, between being a real member of the X-Men and trying to find her own life, she hasn't quite been able to settle on anything. It means she has a tendency to head into the city when she gets a chance, if only for the opportunity to do something more than sit and watch people at the school. Tonight, she was going to go to the philharmonic. Because it's cultured, and adult. Except she was too stubborn to bother Illyana for a 'ride', which meant taking the bus, which of course meant she showed up late. Just now, actually. And…for once that looks like it was a good thing. Aside from the likely fate of her dress.

She should probably call the X-Men. But it's not like they call her, right? So instead, she takes a moment to at least salvage her shoes by stashing them in a safe spot before going molten and rushing toward the fight.

"Go ahead, be mad," Roy Harper replies, as he falls in place next to the empath. "Sorry I'm late, I had to drop Lian off with the babysitter. She wasn't happy with the last-minute call. Boy, I'm going to have to pay her -triple- now, since I'm going to be late."

He'd come armed, thanks to his Checkmate ID, but it was only a simple gun, and he wasn't about to use it -here-, not with the crowd. "Hold 'em upside down, see if they have any extra weapons I can use, will you, Rache? There's a girl."

Garth is returning to his seat after freshening up. It's a rare man that has to excuse himself to the men's room for such things, but Garth is an Atleantean, and he had to hydrate. Honestly, he can be in there for so long, one might think he were a woman.

But it's all sorted out now. He's refreshed, his hair looks slick, the tuxedo is still clean, dry, and fits him well. He slides towards his seat, next to Raven and Roy. "Raven, you look wonderful tonight," and to Roy, he offers a fist to bump, "Great to see you again. I see you were able to get a babysitter for Lian. Once again, sorry about the late invite, but I'm glad you were able to make it."

As Amara dashes in, it's pure pandemonium. People falling over chairs, trying to get at each other and wreak their terrible violence on one another. "Dear heavens," the Flash says as he looks over to Amara.

"Like the outfit. It's hot."

He races away to try and start breaking people up.

Next to where Roy and Rachel were seated, an elderly couple is slapping each other like a scene straight out of the movies from the 1940s. Slap. Slap. Slap. Their feeble hands smack at each other as hard as their bones will let them.

The elderly woman, taking a smack right to the face, falls right into Garth's lap after he comes back from getting refreshed.

The Flash appears in the middle of the stands, trying to pull two women apart. Their hair is all ratty at this point as each have dragged the other a good way. Now, both turn on him and start scratching his face, the exposed part underneath the mask.

Most parts of the orchestra have stopped playing, but several musicians are so into the music they seem to be completely oblivious to what's going on.

"So angry." Raven says pointedly to Roy, but there's no indication that she actually is other than her saying as much. "I could send you back for more weapons, if you like?" Wiggling the fingers of her right hand at him in a 'hoodoo'y' sort of manner while wiggling her finger in a circular gesture at a group of combating older gentlemen. It is impossible to tell who the original sinners are, so she doesn't even try. They're all throwing punches anyways, so they're all guilty to some extent or another.

The group is lifted by tendrils of purple energy and held like christmas orniments in the sky. "Some of them are still playing." She says this like everyone should really have noticed it and it fell to her to be matter of fact about it. She hovers over the crowd, hanging in the air without much thought to it, and casting her hands out to keep the eldest of the victoms encased in protective shells. Another encases a pair that were fighting one another in a single sphere, using it to test a hypothesis by making the small chamber soundproof against the music still filling the ampitheatre.

Amara's brows furrow in a frown when she gets inside to find…random, unfocused fighting. Well, that was unexpected. She sidesteps as a middle-aged woman in a designer gown lunges at her, taking her just past Wally's arrival. "Thank y-" she starts to reply, just in time for him to disappear again. Rather than dwell on that, she shakes her head, wading into the scrum to start doing what she can to keep people apart.

A localized quake suffices to push one pair apart, and Amara shoots small blasts of lava at each of them, expertly cooling the stone into cuffs to hold them in place before they can be burned.

"We're kind of a bit distracted here with the chaos here, Garth. Trust me, this isn't one of these Atlantean audience participation things," Roy replies as Garth comes up as though the chaos were perfectly ordinary.

Dodging out of the way as the old couple falls over, Roy shakes his head. "What, and miss the action? I'll just improvise."

A chair pulled up, Roy holds back the people at bay, like a liontamer. "Don't suppose you've got a whip handy, Rave? I mean, considering what you're probably into these days…"

An "ough" noise comes from the Atlantean as he catches an elderly woman in his arms, careful to cushion her fall. "Are you all right there, miss." Yes, he's kind and refers to her as miss rather than ma'am. Something he learned a while ago. Women like to think that they're younger than they really are.

As he sets her down, and surveys the carnage, he asks no one in particular, "what in Lemuria is going on?" The band continues to play, well, some of them do, and they're airborne, as Raven points out. And is that Flash moving about? Or one of the other speedsters. There are so many these days, it's hard to keep track, but the red and yellow streaks suggest it's probably a Flash, or Jesse Quick.

There are other heroes around, ones he's not familiar with, but it's so confusing. Who's doing this? WHat can he do to help? So he tries to help the elderly couple, separating them and trying to get the woman to head down the aisle to safety in one direction, and if he can, get her husband to go the other way. At least that way, they won't be fighting each other.

To Roy, he nods, "Gotcha," With the old couple seemingly dealt with, Roy focuses, waving his right hand. He's searching for the nearest water supply, and the fountain drink dispensers prove to be the trick. Soon, a snake-like stream of water emerges through the doors, coming into the theatre. It'll make for one hell of a cleaning bill, but he begins using a pressurised spray on the more antagonistic patrons, using it like a police officer might use a fire hose on a crowd.

At Amara's blast, the two incarcerated melee-ers wriggle within their bonds, desperate to get at each other. So desperate in fact, that they begin kicking each other instead!

The Flash appears back by Amara, scratches all over his face, "Holy cows in the Vatican, did you see that?!" His face is gashed all up. He's got super healing and all that, but yeouch! This is crazy sauce.

Roy keeps some evildoers at bay with his chair, reminding anyone familiar with the Monty Python skit and giving them a bit of a chuckle, or maybe a story after all of this is over.

Garth begins to spray down some of the 400, knocking them down and bringing them to a standstill for the moment.

But perhaps the most interesting thing is what Raven does. Her black tendrils shield the aggressors/victims from everything. They look disoriented, confused, and very not violent after a moment or two in Raven's grasp.

"What, no one liners?" Raven verbally rolls her eyes at Roy in her usual deadpan voice when he uses the chair like a liontamer against a rampaging group of elderly men, "Have a seat or something equally unimaginative?" Delivery is all off, she's not very good at one liners. She is, however, good at improvising and by improvising it actually just amounts to reaching into a small glowing purple flamed portal and pulling out the first thing she can find to toss down to Roy.

An umbrella.

"I am not into anything that would require whips." Clearly missing the joke about her Gothy clothing. The umbrella is tossed down to her companion, coincidentally just Tempest makes it rain down the asles. Then she's looking to the various heroes, even to Wally across the room, "It is the music." Pointing towards the orchestra, "Or something that is using the music." She's not ready to condemn Bowin.

She's something of a fan.

"I'm sorry, Raven, but I'm doing this all by the seat of my pants, since a certain someone apparently isn't into whips and chains," Roy responds, as he snatches the umbrella out of the air, pops it open, and puts it up against the rainfall. "Hey, you notice that everyone you're sucking up looks remarkably relaxed afterwards? Better than cigarettes, eh?"

The chair is used to re-direct people towards Raven. "Here, have some more, and… which music player are you talking about…?" He'd cheerfully redirect the umbrella at the target if necessary.

"I thought holy cows were Hindu?" Yes, Amara, because that's the important part of this. Frowning at the restrained pair, she fires off another blast to hold their legs down, trying to see why everyone has started fighting. Despite the mayhem, tracking the activities of a team is one of the things she's had a good deal of practice with. Something she's good at. Which is, no doubt, why she catches Raven's warning. "That, I can do something about," she nods, glancing to Wally. "Cover me?" She doesn't wait for an answer, though, moving forward to find a place where she can kneel and make better contact with the ground. As soon as she does, tremors start to move through the earth, a narrow, hotly glowing fissure starting to open up around the stage.

Amy comes into Central Park from Upper Manhattan.

In the midst of hosing down the patrons, and their expensive clothing, Garth chuckles at Raven's unintentional one liner. "That was pretty funny, Raven. But keep up what you're doing, it seems to be working. Let me see if I can help," and he begins trying to work in tandem with her, clearing a path for the tendrils to grab people, lining them up for the one who seems like a Goth, but is not in fact a Goth.

Privately, quietly, he chuckles at Roy's joke about the whip, having got that one. He may have a reputation as the pure and wholesome one, but he's not that pure. But then, she mentions the music. And he looks at the instruments, "Well, if you think so…" and he hates to do this, but he raises his right hand, waving it about this way and that, until it begins to glow red and emanate a heat so strong that the water that richochets and bounces back towards him turns into steam.

He reaches out with that right hand, firing off a beam of red at some of the instruments, heating them up so that they can't play, fusing holes, trying not to harm the musicians, but if he can stop them from playing music, maybe it'll end this madness?

Amy was supposed to be going to this opera to try to feel better after recent events. A treat from her parents, since she's in this city and all. But she wasn't reallyf eeling up to it. So she'd left her seat to wash her face, and she comes out to… this.

Garth's shots take out a handful of the musician's instruments, including a multimillion dollar oboe that was on loan from France. Nevertheless, the mayhem continues.

Roy ushers people towards Raven so that she can help block them from the sweet tones playing up towards them. The sweet tones of MURDER!

Wally hears Raven's recommendation and is moving in that direction, but halts momentarily as Amara speaks to him. "You got it, Parvati!"

And that's when he sees it. Now that he's moving quickly he can actually see the ripples coming from the stage. No, not the sound. He can see something else. And it's coming from that violin.

"Raven was right," Wally says as he reappears.

"It's that FIDDLER!"

Bowin is lucky to avoid the lava as he breaks for the door and heads out onto the street, and makes a run for Central Park.

Raven audibly groans when Roy actually does deliver a oneliner, but distracts herself by seperating the threads of black shadow into smaller highways upon which the streams created by Tempest can move. They rush along then back up the aisles, washing the little purple bubbles encasing combatants away from the stage and the music that seems to be responsible for all this anarchy.

The shadowy heroine floats in the sky above Tempest and Arsenal, hands extending out while her cloak bellows all around her on a current that probably only exists right in her immediate area. Energy collecting around her like threads of dark energy that tethers out of her like black oil in a bucket of water. It coils around her hands as she wriths them together then some of it is flying towards the stage to create a portal in some hope of diverting the Fiddler's retreat.

Well, if it's the fiddler! Amara is all too happy to switch to a smaller target, though she staggers when she pushes up. Surrounding the whole stage seemed like a much better idea when she started. Instead, she thrusts out a hand, summoning a spray of stone and lava in front and to the side of the fleeing fiddler, trying to force him toward Raven's portal.

That he'd caused Raven to go into "Silent Goth Mode" only causes Roy to grin more so, as he smashes the chair quickly, and then uses the one chair leg he's holding onto to throw it right at the fleeing man's violin. "Hey, wait, you can't go yet! The fat lady hasn't even sung!"

"Not the Fiddler," Tempest repeats in mock amazement, and suddenly very thankful that he has Tempest for a codename. He could have been something lame like Aquaboy, Briney, the Splash, or maybe the Amazing Fish-Man. Tempest is cool, it's classy. It's Shakespearean even, not that Garth has much appreciation for Shakespeare. English was tough enough to learn, but early modern English, that's almost painful to make out.

He continues to work with Raven, setting the people up for her tendrils to grip. A few times his water hits the tendrils, but they seem able to take it all right. Too bad the instruments weren't the key as he at one point thought. At least he doesn't know how much that oboe cost. He's kind of used up his discretionary funds for this year, and probably the next five.

When he sees what Amara's up to, he uses his own powers, trying to control the heat of them. It may not be needed, she may be able to control it perfectly, but just in case she can't, he's going to try and make sure that the whole opera house doesn't burn down. In essence, he tries to singe the edges just enough to keep it from becoming a problem with all the flammable material in here.

As the leg sails over the seats, through the water, and towards the Fiddler, Garth squints his violet eyes, trying to see if it lands its mark. "Isn't that thing a bit bigger and more square-like than your usual arrows, Roy?" He grins at his own joke.

Amy sees that people are fighting, as she stands at the end of the hallway off to the washrooms. She sees lots of fighting, people running around, and she just can't help it. She's already PTSD'd out, and so just screams and curls up onto a ball on the floor.

If anyone learned anything from the Tenacious D song called Dio, mixing sauces leads to very interesting things.

Amara's blast of lava pushes the Fiddler towards Raven's portal, just as the Flash-covered in the Speed Force-moves to tackle the foe.

Each of the three comes at Fiddler all at the same time, just as a bolt of lightning leaps through the open door and catches the intercession.

There's a large popping noise that throws the Flash and the Fiddler away from each other, just as the entire side of the Amphitheater rips away. Amid swirling winds from above, the sky turns purple and black. Something has been torn. Something big.

The Flash sits up, holding his head. His costume is covered in black soot. "Oh man. This is not good."

The winds pick up, spinning faster and faster, almost like a mild tornado. The audience, now done with the effects from the Fiddler, begin to run from the exits. The gods must be very angry.

The Fiddler, for his efforts, is laying on the outside steps, out cold, with the fiddle of doom smashed upon the steps.

Lightning crackles just before a thunderous BOOM erupts. The lightning blinds everyone for a moment, but when the vision comes back, there lies Tel Vole…

A visitor from another land. A visitor from another time. GRAVITY KID has arrived in our land. In OUR time!!!!

Raven was hardly expecting the streams to get crossed so very precisely. It reminds her of a conversation she had had only a few days ago, where the little strings of fate play at the exact right moment to create a very specific sound in the tapestry of reality. She hovers there watching as the ampitheatre is torn apart by the winds of some great malestrom, but pushes her hands out ahead of her and creates a protective barrier around the very last row of civilians so that they are not caught up in the chaotic rending of reality as they flee for safety.

When the winds settle and the lightning fades, Raven floats down to the ground and walks purposefully towards the source of this chaos, pushing Fiddler over onto his back with the toe of her boot and pressing the heel down into the center of his chest. Her eyes, however, are on Wally and, by extension, the others. "Are you okay?" Genuine, if dismally unwavering in tone.

Everything else may as well be a rerun on television. Dimensional portals tearing a hole in the fabric of space time? Raven takes it with a grain of salt as she looks to Tel, "Hello, I'm Raven." Completely okay with it all.

Amara can control the heat around her blasts, with concentration, but as draining as creating the barrier around the stage was, she's grateful for the assist from Tempest. It doesn't take long for her to recharge, though, and by the time the portal is opening, she's straightening from the ground just in time to be blown back to it by the explosion. When the dust settles, she pushes back up, looking among the other heroes on site. The calculus is clear. Someone here had to be the one who did that. And to judge by the way she finally ends up looking at Raven? She's been dubbed most likely candidate.

"… and to think she doesn't own a whip," Roy mutters, as he follows behind Raven, glancing over at Garth and shaking his head ruefully.

The lava woman gets a whistle, followed by a "Okay, I know this's probably been used on you a thousand times, but… damn, you're hot!"

And then with a laugh, Roy winks and moves on, pausing to look at Tel Vole, and then the Flash, before he scratches his neck. "Okay, Raven… you've been checking Craiglist again, have you?"

While he once knew that the Flash could just vibrate the soot off of his dirty costume, Garth has either forgotten, or thinks it's funny, but whatever the reason, he directs a current of water towards the speedster to clean him off after his ordeal. "I got you covered K… Flash," having almost said the wrong codename.

The uniform may have changed, but he'll always be Kid Flash to his violet eyes. Though he personally hopes that everyone will forget about that Aqualad thing. What was he thinking? Unfortunately, the water probably comes too later, instead just adding to the whirlwind created by the scarlet speedster.

When it's all said and done, Tempest begins moving towards the door, to the Fiddler, filled with a certain curiosity for their adversary, but then, oh no, a cushion falls from the ceiling. It must have been taken up there by a tendril, the water, wind, whatever the reason, it falls down heading for him and he has to deflect it with his right arm. But it's a cushion. Nothing to see here, keep your giggling to a minimum. There are professionals at work here.

Despite reports to the contrary, he is not Beast Boy. Someone up there must be having a laugh, as no sooner does he defect the cushion than a girl is sent flying in his direction. He falls against one of the seats, catching Amara. She got a nice soft landing provided by his body. Meanwhile, his back landed against the edge of seat. He can take it, but it's hardly a nice feeling.

As he lets her up, he says, "Um, hi, my name's Tempest. That was a neat trick with the lava." And in the thought that she might not know everyone else, he says, "the speedster's called Flash, the woman with the portals is Raven, and the guy with her is one of my best friends, Arsenal."

Amy isn't even sure she wants't to look. Fighting? Explosions? Bad people and bad things? Didn't this just happen? She ducks her head under her arms, folded over herself, knees bent, whimpering and starting to cry.

Exactly nine hundred and seventy five years years from now, down to the very second, Gravity Kid is facing off against Magno Lad, a member of the Legion of Super Villains. He wasn't alone and other members of the Science Police are in the process of arresting his henchmen but they were just a distraction to let Magno Lad get to the prize he came for: a thousand kilos of superdense metal. It's about the size of baseball. Tel has no idea what the LSV want it for but he knows they can't have it. Currently, it's a stalemate. Magno Lad is trying to move it. Gravity Kid is trying to keep it from moving. Magnetism versus gravity. Both men are staring at each other with sweat beading on their brows, lost in the contest of wills. Right up to the point that Tel releases his hold on the metal which promptly goes flying toward Magno Lad who was using his powers harder than he ever had before and is suddenly unopposed. It flies straight at the villain who barely has time to DUCK! But it continues through the wall, two, three, five and straight into the power plant which explodes. There's just enough warning for Tel to throw up a force field around himself before all hell breaks loose. The powerful explosion on one end, the portal the speed force, the lava and lightning, all happening together on the other, somehow combine to open a rift that sucks Gravity Kid through it and he lands hard on the ground, barely conscious. All he can do is blink up at Raven and "Whu?"

"I made that joke like 5 minutes ago, Speedy," The Flash says with a shake of the head as he pities Roy after the latter repeats his earlier joke. "You're getting' slow, old timer."

As he gets doused with water, the Flash shakes it out like a puppy, "Your water smells like the bottom of a tuna can, Aqualad."

His attention turns to Raven.

"Oh man," The Flash says as he holds his head. "I had the most vivid dream. You were there." He points to Roy, "You were there." He points to Tempest, "You were there." He points to Amara, "I wanted you to be there." He points to Fiddler and shakes his head, "I didn't want hi-hey wait! Who's that?"

The Flash points at Tel Vole.

Hey dude. Nice clothes."

"I have no idea what craigslist is, Arsenal…" Raven assures Roy with a distant sort of exasperation. Not necessarily at him, but the fact that there's one ''more'' thing she's going to have to google. After she googles, google.

She presses her heel harder into Fiddler's chest when he attempts to swat her foot away and looks away from their newest arriving friend to the villain laying beneath her light, but ample for this task, weight. "I really enjoyed your music, it's a terrible shame that you had to be the bad guy." She assumed he was, but … hoped. So much for her hopes.

She looks back to Tel and cants her head, arms crossed over her chest, and her face looking about as welcoming as a pit of man eating grasshoppers. "I said: hello, my name is Raven…" Clearly think he didn't understand her, because that would be expected after that big an explosion, and not that he's just traveled across time space into a world that probably doesn't make sense.

There might, for just a moment, be a sizzle as Tempest catches Amara. It takes her a split second to shift from molten form back into flesh when she slams into an actual person, and that split second is…well, it's hot. "My apologies," she says quickly, doing her best to push away before she can do anything more than singe a bit. "I am Am- Magma." Her dress, at least, seems to be mostly intact. For certain power sets, investing in certain materials is just good sense. And when she isn't liquid magma, she's a very normal looking young blonde woman. She tracks each introduction, a faint smile tugging at one corner of her lips first at Roy, and then at Wally. "Your friends are rather like my friends, apparently," she drawls, amused.

"He wasn't even -here- five minutes ago!" Roy responds to Wally, shaking his head before looking back at Raven. "And man, if you're going to keep doing that, you're gonna make lots of masochist twitters everywhere, Raven. Cool it. Let him up."

Shaking his head, Roy fishes around, coming up with the remaints of someone's dress and using it to rip off strips and then proceed to bind up the Fiddler for a bit and… what? What? … gawd, he was going to make twitters himself, was he?

Tempest smirks at Flash's antics, shaking out the water and describing it like the stuff out of a tuna can. "I work with what I can get. And that's from the fountain drink dispenser." The tendrils of water return towards the dispenser tray, part of it hovering in mid air while a little of it goes down the drain. But there's too much for it to all go at once, so the snake gets smaller and smaller, gradually, while anyone in the lobby looks on in bewilderment.

"Oh, and it's Tempest now, Flash." He always hated the name Aqualad.

But who's the new guy with Raven? He looks over while still standing next to Amara. His tuxedo is still in pretty good condition. No water damage. Nothing from the tendrils, the soot, or anything else. It looks like he's come through with flying colours. He even straightens the cufflink on his left sleeve.

And then he sees it. Damn, his tie and the sleeve of his shirt. Both turned a little black, not enough to harm his skin, but yep, the shirt and tie were both ruined. At least the tux survived all right. But maybe he'll have to check that out back at home later tonight.

"Nothing to apologise for. It's just a suit. It's not like they've stopped making them. Nice to meet you Am-Magma." He totally missed that she almost gave her real name. But he gives his, "And since I don't really have a secret identity to speak of, I'm Garth." He'd give his last name, but Atlanteans don't have them.

He's curious too about the new guy with Arsenal, Raven, and the others. But he's polite enough to wait for Am-Magma, who's ahead of him in the row. As they make their way over, he asks Arsenal, "does the new guy have a name? This is Am-Magma." Oh yeah, she's going to hate him for saying that.

Tel lifts his head a fraction then lets it drop again as it's revealed to be a very, very bad idea. "Night Girl?" he asks faintly, blinking up at the girl. "You changed your uniform. Who… who's everyone?"

Amy seems to notice that things are cooling off, and turning into conversation not mayhem. She lifts her head, and slowly gets up. Lifting herself to her feet, she looks around, biting her lip, on edge and ready to run and hide at the drop of a hat. Which might cause her to do so quite literally at this point.

"I bet you do," The Flash snaps back as he gets to his feet and moves over to Tel Vole. "And that manta ray told you she was never returning your calls."

The Flash gives a heads up to Tel Vole and reaches down to help him up. "You look like you need some help, there, tough guy. If you want, we have a headquarters over at the UN you can rest at. Either way, the cops be here in t-minus folks, so the time, it's a tickin.

At Tel's question, he repeats the introductions since that's like a thing. "Look man, we gotta get you somewhere. Our HQ has an infirmary and dude, I'm thinkin' you need it."

He puts Tel's arm over his shoulder. "Close your eyes. This might make you queasy." Over his shoulders. "Party at the HQ. You're invited too, Magma."

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